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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29060409">slippery as an eel</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/laeveleve/pseuds/laeveleve'>laeveleve</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Crack Treated Seriously, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Monsterfuckery, Oral Sex, River’s idea i just wrote it, Smut, i guess, magickal mishaps, tongue cock??, why did I write this</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:07:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,043</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29060409</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/laeveleve/pseuds/laeveleve</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Baz makes a rather Simon-like error in assuming that “slippery as an eel” is nothing more than a lube-making spell.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>117</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>slippery as an eel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynopoe/gifts">cynopoe</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>river i hate you</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>
    <em>BAZ</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It starts as all things involving Simon Snow do — disastrously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alright, perhaps I’m being a little unfair; it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>spell. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>cast it. But I’ll stand by one thing: unpredictable shit such as this only tends to happen when I am in the presence of my beautiful mess of a boyfriend.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I shouldn’t be so negative. Of all the spell-casting mistakes made in the history of Mages, this one has to have been one of the most rewarding.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Slippery as an eel.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seems pretty simple. Simon and I forgot to restock on lube, and we’ve been going through it especially quickly lately. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And in my defence, </span>
  <em>
    <span>intention matters. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>well, surely this is a spell that will create a lube-like substance so I don’t have to make a very awkward trip to the corner shop. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Perhaps, in retrospect, the mistake came in casting </span>
  <b>slippery as an eel </b>
  <span>directly on Simon’s cock rather than into his hand, for example. (I’d ask Bunce about it, if the concept weren’t so completely mortifying to me.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Are you getting it, now? I cast </span>
  <b>slippery as an eel </b>
  <span>on my boyfriend’s cock, and it didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly </span>
  </em>
  <span>have the effect I’d expected. Stay with me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The room was dim — neither of us felt like getting up to turn on a light before we sank into a mess of limbs atop the mattress. So dim, in fact, that Simon barely even noticed what I’d done to him at first. I was staring blankly, and he did a double take and then gawked at me like a fish.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck, Baz?” He whispered, as if I had a single fucking clue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Where Simon Snow’s lovely, perfect cock once was, there was now something else… a tongue. I blinked. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>tongue?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t exactly a </span>
  <em>
    <span>normal </span>
  </em>
  <span>tongue, I feel the need to clarify — larger (</span>
  <em>
    <span>much </span>
  </em>
  <span>larger), and more pointed at the tip. The kind you might see on those monsterfucking sex toy websites. (Websites which I certainly have </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>perused.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Longer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aleister Crowley. I’d fed recently enough that my face was beginning to feel flush.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I reached out and touched it, a little tentatively, and Simon hissed at the contact. Good hiss. Alright. Sensitive, then.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Crowley, Baz.” Simon breathed. “You think this thing is right sexy, don’t you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I cleared my throat. “It’s certainly… interesting.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Interesting?</span>
  </em>
  <span> What if I never get my dick back?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I huffed at him. “Snow. Even I am not powerful enough a Mage to create a permanent bodily modification.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Snow grunted his reply, as he tends to do. He looked down at me, at his brand-new tongue-dick, back at me. Shrugged. “Guess we might as well make use of it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I wrapped my fingers around him, and his head dropped forward toward my chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For what it’s worth, my chaotic lubrication spell did actually create lube. Snow’s new cock slipped through my hand fluidly, and he made his enjoyment of it quite known. His curls tickled my neck as he groaned loudly into my shoulder. I’d never been so glad of that soundproofing spell we placed around the bedroom, even though nobody else was home. I’m convinced our next-door-but-one neighbours would have been privy to our ensuing activities if we hadn’t. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t see enough of Simon from this position, laid out on my back with him panting above me. I took a firm grip of his shoulder and tossed him onto his back, pinning him down by his hips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wanted to see you.” I breathed, and Snow just nodded, his mouth still open like he was trying to catch flies. Mouth-breather. </span>
  <em>
    <span>My </span>
  </em>
  <span>mouth-breather.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I studied the tongue-cock, once it was in my direct line of sight. Not too thick, save for the base. Long. Slippery. Almost… animated, in the way it moved. Like it had a mind of its own. Rather like Simon’s tail, I suppose.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You still up there, Baz?” Simon was grinning at me, clearly enjoying how enraptured I was by this whole thing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Present.” I muttered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I think he was going to say something else — probably to mock me relentlessly — but it was lost before it ever passed his lips, because I lowered my head and took the tip of his cock into my mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’m still cautious about giving blowjobs — I’ve practically mastered keeping my fangs at bay, now, but it still requires concentration. The last time I tried, Snow said it looked like I was constipated, not sucking off my boyfriend; my face was just all too tight with focus. Decidedly not the experience I hoped to give him. We gave up, in the end. (I’ll get there, I just need </span>
  <em>
    <span>practice</span>
  </em>
  <span>.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This</span>
  </em>
  <span>, though — this was perfect. It was just thin enough that even though my fangs hadn’t popped yet, I could tell it would slide just between them. They </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>drop, as I got a little more enthusiastic, and as I lost some of my focus to appreciate my groaning mess of a boyfriend — but it was a non-issue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I rolled my tongue around him, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Crowley </span>
  </em>
  <span>did Snow react. He reached out blindly, and took a handful of my hair — not tightly enough to be painful, but enough that I knew I was doing alright after all. And so did the cock itself react; its twitching only increased, and it rolled itself back over my tongue like it intended to seek out its own enjoyment from me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t get the whole thing in my mouth anyway, enough for the thickness of the base to be an issue. A shame, truly. I’d rather liked to take all of it, but unfortunately I happened to have been cursed with a gag reflex.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, he hadn’t come </span>
  <em>
    <span>yet</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I pulled off with a pop, and watched Simon’s chest rise and fall wildly. “Holy fucking… fucking hell.” I think I heard — </span>
  <em>
    <span>good, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Normal swearing always means I’ve gotten under his skin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Want to ride you.” I said, half to myself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon was looking a little dizzy with pleasure, by that point. Still, ever the hero of my arsehole, he perked his head up just enough to make eye contact with me as he said, “Are you sure? It’s a lot of dick.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I rolled my eyes. “I can handle it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>could </span>
  </em>
  <span>handle it. That was, if we had any lube. I frowned. Clearly Simon chose that exact moment to have a brain reboot, however, and said, “Just remembered there’s an extra bottle of lube in my sock drawer. I always fuckin’ forget about the sock drawer.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You tell me this now?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Idiot. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Simon Snow allowed me to cast an experimental lube spell and morph his cock into some kind of quasi-tongue before he could gather the brain cells to remember that he actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>own a spare bottle of lube. I rolled my eyes, and kissed him quickly as I leant over him to grab it. “Numpty.” I accused him. Softly, affectionately. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you love me.” He was still grinning up at me. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm.” I snapped open the lube bottle and reached behind myself. Awkward angle. It took a moment before Simon stopped watching me dreamily and took over himself, sitting back against the pillows and kissing over my chest as he worked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time he’d worked in three fingers, I was practically aching for it. “I’m ready.” I groaned, mostly into the headboard behind him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure?” He asked, and I responded slightly less tenderly that </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes, I’m fucking ready. Let me ride you, for Crowley’s sake. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I positioned myself over his lap. Leant forward, for a moment, and kissed Simon soundly.  “Thank you for caring, though, love.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He held the — slightly writhing, interestingly — tongue-cock still as I sank down. Inch by inch. And Crowley, it certainly was </span>
  <em>
    <span>longer </span>
  </em>
  <span>than the Simon I’m used to; fortunately, I was quite convinced at that very moment that this was my life’s true purpose. I could die here, happily. My tombstone would read: </span>
  <em>
    <span>impaled on boyfriend’s magickally-created monster-cock. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I would be the shame of the Pitches, besmudge our name, but at least I went out doing what I loved. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not yet fully seated, I rolled my hips just once, and Snow’s head fell back so quickly he was lucky he didn’t smack it on the headboard. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I wasn’t done yet. I fully intended on taking every inch he had to offer. And I did — after some incredibly torturous moments for both of us, I found myself sitting in his lap. Properly. Not even moving, but it appeared that I didn’t quite need to — the </span>
  <em>
    <span>tongue </span>
  </em>
  <span>descriptor felt ever more accurate. Quite literally, this thing had a mind of its own — apparently with the exact same infatuation as Snow on driving me completely fucking wild.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ever the glutton, I couldn’t help but want </span>
  <em>
    <span>more </span>
  </em>
  <span>— I began to roll my hips, slowly, gently, but enough to make my legs shake. Snow took a handful of each of my thighs and squeezed, more and more unable with every moment to stop himself from bucking his own hips upward and into me. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He removed one, and relocated it to my previously woefully abandoned cock — though its lack of attention may have been for the best, because I soon realised that I certainly was not going to last much longer like this. My thighs were burning, tension in my stomach building, and Snow was growing ever more eager beneath me. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let me flip us.” He breathed in my ear, after a particularly slow roll of my hips made us both gasp. “Wanna fuck you properly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I nodded beside his ear, in a loss of breath, and he tossed me onto my back so easily I might as well have weighed nothing to him. (</span>
  <em>
    <span>Crowley, Simon’s strength. I should let him manhandle me more often.)</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck me properly </span>
  </em>
  <span>he did. Snow had clearly been building up the energy, and eagerness, in bounds while I was doing the work. He started off slow, to let me get used to the length again, and then built up his pace until I was gripping at the sheets for dear life. Every single thrust broke a breathy gasp out of my throat — the kind that I would be most embarrassed to be making if I weren’t entirely lost in the throes of passion, and all that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The </span>
  <em>
    <span>tongue </span>
  </em>
  <span>was still putting itself to work — the pressure of it, just right, rolling just the way I needed it to. That, and Snow’s punishing pace, a hand working over my cock — I suppose I never really stood a chance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I groaned out a broken, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Simon.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>and came all over my stomach. Said not-so-terrible boyfriend followed not so long after — watching me, and feeling the sensation of me tightening around him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmf.” Said Simon, intelligently, head hanging over my chest and panting wildly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck.” I responded, just as intellectually. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon pulling out sent a long shiver down my spine; uncomfortable, certainly. But was I also feeling like I never wanted this experience to end? Of course. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once my panting subsided, I glanced over to where Simon was collapsed, spread eagle beside me. Normal cock and all. Was the last hour a fever dream? Have I really reached that level of horny, now?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, to put my concerns to rest, Simon’s eyes cracked open a moment later and he muttered; “Oh. Dick’s back.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Indeed it is.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I think I might almost miss Simon’s tongue-cock. Fortunately, his </span>
  <em>
    <span>actual </span>
  </em>
  <span>cock is just perfect — though, in the moment, I did find myself absently searching the corners of my mind for the website address to a particularly interesting dildo shop. (Out of curiosity, you must understand.) </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Snow began to giggle, gently, from his position at my side. He spotted my frown, silently asking </span>
  <em>
    <span>what the fuck is up with you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and shook his head, bedraggled curls falling about his face. “I was just thinking. You should fuck up your spells more often.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I snorted a laugh despite myself, and tugged him toward me. “Perhaps I should. Perhaps I should.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon’s bouts of sleepy laughter didn’t die out until we’d cleaned up and he had fallen soundly asleep, wrapped around me. I muttered out one breathy, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fucking slippery as an eel.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> and pursued him into unconsciousness.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this is only the second snowbaz smut i’ve ever written, and the first was... not like this. at all. so you know, go easy on me.</p><p>also, i’m a simp. </p><p>thanks x</p></blockquote></div></div>
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